


Informal Connotations

by langsdelijn



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-26 10:04:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5000560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/langsdelijn/pseuds/langsdelijn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lewis and Seb discuss some things. (Specifically, the precise nature of Lewis and Nico's relationship.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Informal Connotations

Seb drifts towards him, comes to stand by his side silently while Lewis dallies—drinks some water, worries his hair into some semblance of order, messes with his second-place cap, twisting and squeezing the brim, anything to be able to stand here a little longer and not to have to pretend there’s anything left that’s normal between him and Nico. ‘God,’ he mutters, ‘I’m so tired of this.’

‘What?’ Seb asks, chipper as always, happy still to come third and experience life as a buffer in the tug-of-war of exclusion that wages in this situation twice every two weeks. 

Lewis gives up and puts his cap on, then turns around and gestures vaguely at Nico, who’s pretending to be deeply engrossed in the race result.

‘Hmm.’ Seb leans further back against the table, takes a swig of his water. ‘So you two are still having marital problems?’ he continues, soft enough the microphone won’t overhear.

Lewis sighs. It’s not like it’s the implication of these jokes that bothers him, or at least not in that way, but he personally doesn’t see the humour in them, and they got old fast. ‘Oh wow, man, not you too…?’ Seb gives him a not-very-apologetic shrug. ‘Honestly, what do you even get out of this? Why’s it funny? I don’t get it, man.’

‘Well,’ Seb says expansively. ‘I mean, do you guys see yourselves?’

He has, actually. Hasn’t liked what’s to see in years. ‘What?’ 

‘Well, obviously.’ Lewis waits for something more substantial than that and complicated hand waving. ‘Oh, come on,’ Seb says then. ‘Seriously?’

‘Seb, man, what are you on about?’

Seb rolls his eyes. ‘I mean, I know you’re supposed to be on a break right now and everything’—Lewis glares at him but Seb just grins and goes on—‘but you two actually have to actively try to stay away from each other—you know we can tell, right, we all have eyes—and you always, like, forget yourselves and then there’s all these little touches and stuff.’

‘We were friends,’ Lewis says. He can’t tell if that was a protest or a wistful reminiscence, or both at the same time. He misses Nico, misses being friends with him, misses all those other little touches that have fallen by the wayside since. But it’s true, they were friends. 

They aren’t at present. He’d said it in anger, last year, but he’s come to realise how true it is, since. 

But Seb ignores him. ‘It’s all quite romantic, I think,’ he says.

And that’s when they’re called to the podium, so Lewis is spared more of Seb’s teasing, at least for the moment. Lewis stands on the step below Nico, goes through the motions of the ceremony, which thankfully includes the chance to make Seb pay by means of champagne spray to the eyes (admittedly accidental but no less satisfying to see him sputter—and totally worth the price of Seb’s retaliation), and has almost forgotten the topic again as they head back in. Until Seb whispers, hands reassuringly on Lewis’ shoulders and no doubt unnecessarily up on his tiptoes for the effect, ‘And you make such a good-looking couple.’

Lewis growls low in his throat. Seb laughs.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted in on this impromptu Seb/Lewis thing that's been going on but silly gen happened instead, oops.


End file.
